


date night

by asongtofixwhatswrong



Series: [placeholder title for jonelias abuse recovery mundane au] [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Gaslighting, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, No Fear Entities (The Magnus Archives), Sexual Assault, just a miserable time in general
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:02:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29799225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asongtofixwhatswrong/pseuds/asongtofixwhatswrong
Summary: Jon and Elias spring for a proper dinner date for the first time. It doesn't go well.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: [placeholder title for jonelias abuse recovery mundane au] [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2190315
Comments: 5
Kudos: 51





	date night

**Author's Note:**

> for people coming from the other work in this series: this is sorta a collation of ideas I had for other scenes between jon and elias that I never had cause to use anywhere else, so I figured I'd put them all together and give jon one more spectacularly bad day before the last chapter in the main fic. timeline wise, I'd say this takes place shortly after chapter four.
> 
> for people who haven't read the other work in this series: I think this works fairly well on it's own, the main background being in my very inventive series title. basic info: this is a no entities au which otherwise bears some resemblance to canon, where jon got promoted to head archivist at the magnus institute which elias heads, but instead of jon being surprised and traumatized by being manipulated into fear marks he got surprised and traumatized by being manipulated into an emotionally and sexually abusive relationship with his boss. if you just want to see him have a severely bad time, this is the fic for you. if you want to see him have a severely bad time and then gradually start having a better time, check out the other fic in this series.
> 
> elaboration on the content warnings in the end notes, they're basically a play-by-play for the events in this fic. let me know if there's anything I should add to them!

Jon takes another sip of his wine and tries to not let himself sound too annoyed. “Do we have to talk about this here? Can’t it wait until after dinner?”

The restaurant is on the higher end of midscale, somewhere with a nice enough ambience and menu but where Elias said they weren’t apt to be recognized.

“I’m just wondering why you’re so insistent on dodging it if it really isn’t anything to worry about,” says Elias over his partially eaten filet mignon.

That morning, Jon had made the mistake of answering a text from Martin about a bit of work while Elias was in the bathroom, and Elias had come back in the room to see him click off his phone and quickly try to get it out of sight. Really, it was only natural that Elias would be suspicious of him.

“ _Because_ it’s nothing to worry about,” he says. “I promise, really, it was nothing. We don’t need to talk about it. Or, at least, not right now.”

Elias had tried to address it at the time, tried to get Jon to show him his phone, but Jon had avoided it. An hour or so later, Elias had suggested they spring for an actual dinner date tonight. Jon was the one to put it off in the first place, it only makes sense that Elias would try again.

“If it’s really nothing then you’ll have nothing to hide in giving me your passcode.”

When Elias had brought up the subject again halfway through their meal with much more persistence, Jon almost felt like it was on purpose, to hang the threat of a public, loud argument over his head and to keep him in place at the table. He knows that’s not _rational,_ though, he _knows_ that. People aren’t that malicious, especially not _Elias,_ he’s just always been anxious and paranoid, especially these days. He’s been learning to bury and ignore those stupid instincts. Doesn’t mean he wants to hand over his phone and password, though.

“I just like privacy, that’s all, I swear. Ask me what you want to know, and _I’ll tell you._ ”

“I want to know why you hid your phone the second I came in the room!”

“That wasn’t what it was! I was just putting it away!”

“I wish I could believe you, Jon, but you sound like you’re lying.”

Jon _feels_ like he’s lying, so it makes sense that tells might be slipping into his face and voice. But he’s not lying. At least, he doesn’t think he’s lying, but it’s not normal to feel guilty over telling the truth, right? “I don’t need to give you my phone and code.”

“Well of course you don’t _need_ to, I’d never force you into anything, but I’d like it if you’d show me. It would make me trust you more.”

Jon sighs, rests his forehead in one of his hands, and goes to take another spoonful of his food. He’d been hungry for something more than soup, but Elias had suggested it and he hadn’t wanted to make anything else contentious. Elias pours him another glass of wine out of the corner of his eye, and he nods. “Thank you.”

“You seem tense, try to relax.”

 _You aren’t exactly helping,_ thinks Jon, before quickly stamping on the idea. He drinks half the glass in one go, and is about to say something else when the waitress comes back over. Her name tag reads “Kelly.”

“How is everything?” she asks, wearing a slightly nervous smile.

“Perfectly satisfactory,” says Elias, tersely. 

Jon scrambles for something to say. “I like the music playing.” He can barely hear the music playing.

She nods and glances between them. “Can I get you anything else at the moment?”

“No,” says Elias, then, formally, “Thank you.”

And she’s gone. Jon’s head is already starting to swim, so he has another spoonful of soup before he goes back to his glass. He’s hungry but he doesn’t want to eat, something he’s not willing to interrogate right now. He takes a breath to collect himself. “How about I just show you the text thread? They have timestamps, you can see they line up with this morning.”

“Good start, but again, that makes me think you’re hiding something somewhere else.”

He wants to slam his head down on the table. “I’m not.”

“Then it should be easy to prove.”

“But I shouldn’t _have_ to prove it, you should just listen to me.”

“Then tell me, how is what you’re saying now any different to what you’d say if you were lying and trying to cover it up?”

“Because I mean it!” He closes his eyes and drains the rest of his glass. He doesn’t even really like red wine. “Can you at least tell me what it is you think I’ve done?”

Elias stares daggers at him, perfectly still in his seat. “You could be cheating on me.”

Jon actually laughs. “When would I have the time to cheat on you? I’m _with you_ most of the time.”

“You can see how that’s not a reassuring answer to hear.”

Jon doesn’t respond.

“Even so, my next guess would be that you were talking about me to someone, and not being very nice about it.”

At that Jon doesn’t even laugh, he just blinks in confusion. “What?”

“If there’s something you don’t want me to see, and it’s not an affair, then it’s probably something nasty about me.”

“I--I don’t--this is the first time we’ve even tried going out anywhere remotely public, I’ve not gone gossiping to anyone.”

“Good, then give me your phone and password.”

Jon feels like his head’s going to explode, he’s both too drunk and not drunk enough for this kind of circular conversation. “Can you just try to trust me? Please?”

“I’d trust you if you gave me your phone.”

He’s getting the suspicion that this isn’t actually about a phone and passcode. “Why do you get full access to my things when I don’t get a key to your house?”

“One, those are entirely different things and you know it, two, you’re redirecting _again_.”

He might actually be losing mind, none of this makes sense. There has to be _something_ he can say to make this end, why can’t he find it? “You’re being ridiculous!” No, that wasn’t it.

Elias leans in partially over the table and tries to get Jon’s full attention. “Calm down,” he says, gruffly.

“I don’t need to calm down! You’re the one being unreasonable!”

“Jon, you’re drunk.”

“So what? I’m allowed to be!”

Elias’s voice is almost a hiss. “ _You’re making a scene._ ”

“ _I’m not!_ ” The words leave his lips, and then, very suddenly, he realizes he is. He hadn’t heard how loud he was getting, and now, keeping his mouth shut, it’s all gone abruptly quiet. He swivels his eyes around and sees more than just a few people staring at him. An image of what he must look like from their perspective flashes across his mind. _Who’s that drunk asshole yelling about a mobile phone? I hope that man with him can get control over the situation soon, he must have the patience of a saint._

To think he’d been anxious about _Elias_ making them have a public fight. 

There’s almost physical pain in his chest. “I’m sorry.”

Elias's mouth is pressed thin. “You’ve been out of line.”

“Sorry,” Jon says again, just above a whisper. He can’t think of anything else to say. “Can I have some more wine?”

“You’ve drunk the last of it.”

“Oh.” He looks at the table cloth. If he looks up again someone might still be staring.

“Give me your phone passcode.”

“I…” There it is again, that strange and heavy guilt. He shouldn’t be getting this upset over something that doesn’t matter. Really, who does that? He should be able to make this better. He knows exactly what would make Elias let up, and yet he still doesn’t do it. Why can’t he just make himself do it? “I don’t want to.”

Elias leans back from where he’d been crowding in, lips twisted into a lopsided frown. It stings to look him in the eye. “You’re making me have to try very hard to stay reasonable.”

Jon’s whole body aches. Why can’t he do _anything_ right? Jerkily, he reaches into his bag on the floor and pulls out a small vodka bottle.

“Is that _really_ a good idea?” says Elias, looking down his nose. 

Jon shrugs by way of response and fills up his wine glass with what must be something like five shots’ worth of alcohol. He doesn’t often let himself get quite this fucked up, but a miserable night out seems like as good an excuse as any.

* * *

It’s been. It’s been, uh. It’s been some amount of time. Jon could check how long it’s been, but that would take energy, and he’s busy laying his head down on the table. He’s cold. Of course he’s cold, it’s late winter and he’s not wearing any tights under his stupid fucking pleated skirt. He’s pretty sure Elias is ignoring him. He thinks he’s tried to say a few things to him recently and not gotten a response, but then again he might have just thought about it. He might cry soon? He doesn’t feel well.

“Will you be wanting any dessert menus?” says a voice. Katie? Carly? He can’t remember.

“No,” says Elias. “Just the check, please.”

A pause, with no sound to indicate movement. “Is he alright?”

“Him? He’s just drunk.”

Another pause.

“Yes? Anything else?”

“Is he conscious?”

“Probably, and if he’s not, I’ll wake him up before we leave, it’s fine.”

Jon picks up his head. “I’m awake.” His voice cracks a bit as he speaks.

Her eyes dart back and forth between the two of them before landing again on Jon. “Are you feeling alright, sir?”

“Yes, he is. I asked for the check?”

She wavers again. “Right, I’ll get that.”

As she walks away, Jon turns to Elias. Words feel crunchy as they leave his mouth. “I don’t think you were being very nice to her.”

“Well, she was getting on my nerves. Not very hard with how _you’ve_ been acting all night.”

“Oh.” Of course that’s because of him, too. “We’re going back to yours, right?”

Elias raises an eyebrow. “Could you get back to your flat by yourself?”

Jon doesn’t think he could walk to the restaurant door by himself. “No.”

“Then yes.” Elias checks his watch quickly. “I’m going to go visit the restroom. Our cab should be here shortly.”

“Okay.” Elias gets up from the table, and Jon lets his head go back to resting on the table cloth. His environment spins around him and his thoughts drift. This night has been a complete disaster, and it’s all down to him, once again. He keeps doing this. They’ll try and do something nice, and Jon will get upset about something small, refuse to budge on it, and he’ll spoil the whole thing. He wonders why Elias even bothers with him. He’s so _cold._ God, there isn’t a lot he wouldn’t give for a warm pair of arms around him. Elias is probably too angry at the moment, though.

“Hello? Sir?” A hand is gently shaking his shoulder. “Sir, are you awake?”

He picks up his head and swings it around to see who’s bothering him. It’s the waitress again, crouching down to his eye level. He manages to focus on her name tag. _Kelly, right._ “Hmm?”

Her brows are knit and her eyes are focused. “That man you’re with, do you trust him?”

“I--what?”

“You’re all out-of-sorts and he barely seems to care. Do you trust him? Do you think you’re alright?”

He tries to string together an answer. “He’s been my, uh, we’ve been going out for a few months.”

“Really?” She blinks a few times. “Still, if you don’t wanna leave with him, I can bring you to a back room, we can arrange to get you home from there.”

“Why, why would I do that?”

“You’re in a vulnerable state and he seems, well, I don’t wanna say ‘dangerous’ or ‘untrustworthy,’ I don’t know him, but that’s why I’m asking. Do you need help?”

She looks so intense. Earnest. He’s sorry that he’s made her so concerned when there’s nothing to be worried about. “No.”

“Are you sure about that? If you want help, it’s no trouble at all.”

Jon tries to think about it. He feels bloody awful, but that doesn’t mean anything’s _wrong._ “I--”

“Ah, back already?” says Elias, coming back to the table.

Kelly stands up. “Uh, yes.”

He looks between the both of them. “Has he been bothering you?”

Kelly opens her mouth to speak. “No, I--”

“Can I just have the bill?” Elias cuts her off.

“Uh, right, yes. Here.” She produces the black wallet and he takes a glance at the inside before tucking a few notes into it. “Is there anything else I can help the pair of you with?”

Elias smiles, showing his teeth. “No, we’ve got a car waiting for us outside. I’ll take this.”

* * *

Like clockwork, it takes about six minutes worth of cab ride of ignoring Jon’s sulking, dejected form for Elias to start hearing the muffled sounds of crying. In the reflection of the window, he sees Jon curled up into the car door, knees pulled nearly up to his chest, shoulders shaking, and covering his face with his hands. Now he shouldn’t have too much longer to wait before--

“Elias?” Jon whimpers, looking just over his shoulder. 

He eyes Jon for a half-second before going back to looking out the window. 

“Elias, can you hold me? Please?”

The slur and slight whine to his speech, the red eyes just overflowing with tears, and the barely restrained trembling of his lip all come together to make the reflection in the rain-damp glass look like the most pathetic and miserable creature there ever was. He looks like one little nudge will send him spiraling into a full breakdown right there in the taxi. “No.”

“ _Please._ ” His voice breaks and he pulls himself across the seats towards Elias.

“ _No._ ” Elias turns to face him and makes his voice sharp and exasperated. “If you’d be so kind as to recall before you ask for my comfort, _I’m upset with you,_ so I don’t particularly want to touch and coddle you at this moment.”

“I--I just--” Jon turns his eyes to the ground and starts properly sobbing, no longer bothering to cover his face and openly weeping before Elias. “ _I’m sorry I’m sorry you’re right I’m sorry,_ ” he stutters, hardly comprehensible through frantic, heaving breaths.

Good, but Elias can’t let it up just yet. Jon tries to collapse forward, to close the last space between them, but Elias puts his hand on Jon’s chest and holds him away at an arm's length. Jon’s chest shudders and spasms against his palm, the little lungs within unable to control themselves as he’s overcome with crushing despair. He really is so cute when he gets worked up like this.

Jon continues to spout wretched nothings. “Please, please, I’m _so_ sorry, you were right, you can do anyth-- _I’ll_ do _anything--_ ”

Elias moves his hand up from Jon’s chest to his face and very calmly slips two fingers into his mouth. Jon’s face instantly goes still. A few moments go by, and he lets his eyelids fall shut before closing his parted lips and starting to suck. Elias smoothes over and caresses his chin with his thumb. Jon would be quicker on the uptake if he weren’t quite _this_ drunk, but that’s far outweighed by getting to have him this soft and weak and confused and _desperate._ He’d probably walk right into oncoming traffic if it meant he’d get one good hug afterward.

Elias slowly pulls his hand closer to his body, Jon dutifully coming with it. It’s so much fun watching Jon’s face shift and contort through conflicting emotions with all his filters turned off; this is clearly incredibly uncomfortable for him to do, but it’s bringing him closer to affection and comfort. He’s still crying and trembling, but he clings close to Elias.

“There there, it’s okay.” Elias takes his free hand and pulls Jon’s head right into his chest, running his fingers through that soft, dark hair while he’s at it. “I accept your apology, I wouldn’t stay upset with you when you’re this needy.”

A sound comes from Jon’s throat that would probably be a thank you if his mouth weren’t full, so Elias graciously takes his hand back and lifts Jon by the jaw to kiss. Jon doesn’t kiss back very well, but he lets Elias bite his lip, so Elias decides not to needle him about it. He lets Jon drop back down to his chest and could swear he can _feel_ the relief flowing through that small body as he finally wraps his arms around it and holds tight.

Jon continues to sob and convulse against Elias, and Elias glaces at the rear view mirror where the driver is very intentionally not looking back at them. As much as Elias has made sure this cab company can be relied upon for discretion, he doesn’t think fucking Jon right here would go well. However, it will be fun to plant the idea in Jon's head. He readjusts himself so that one of his hands goes under Jon’s shirt and Jon has to split his knees over Elias’s legs, pulling his skirt almost all the way up his legs. With the thumb of his free hand, Elias rubs little circles into the soft skin up Jon’s inner thigh. Jon takes a stuttering breath, and after a second, starts mouthing wet kisses into Elias’s neck.

“Good,” murmurs Elias, and kisses Jon’s dark hair.

The minutes of the journey tick by, and slowly, Jon’s breathing evens into something less hysterical, and Elias stops feeling tears soak his collar. Elias’s hands keep wandering under Jon’s clothes, stroking and grabbing and squeezing wherever he thinks will make the little squirmy thing whine.

The car stops, and the cabbie clears his throat. “Sir, we’re here.”

“Good, good,” says Elias. “You have my card on file for the bill.”

“Yes, right.” The man gets out and comes around to open the door, keeping his face composed as he gets a proper look at the pair of them. He gestures to the drunk, miserable mess in Elias’s lap. “Need any help?”

“No, quite alright, thank you. I can take this.”

“Alright then.” The cabbie steps away from the door and gets back into the driver’s seat.

Elias starts trying to rouse Jon and extricate the two of them from the car, and he eventually manages it, standing just on the curb with his arms around Jon’s waist, pulling him close as his knees try to give way.

“You alright there, darling?” says Elias as Jon falters and falls into him a bit.

Jon picks up his head, scrunching up his face in strain and rubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands. His nose wrinkles and he makes a breathy groaning sound as he tries to make himself sensible enough to answer. “Mmm, too much to drink,” he slurs, his voice thin, high, and tired. He really is _adorable_ like this.

Elias takes a moment to enjoy having their bodies pressed together like this. The slow rhythm of Jon's chest pressing on his, the shifting of Jon's hips as he tries to stay steady, the warmth of skin being masked through just a few layers of cloth. So soft and pliable and sweet and helpless. He looks down at Jon, almost hungry despite having just eaten. “There’s only a few more steps to the door, love. Let’s get you into bed.”

**Author's Note:**

> \- early in the day, elias starts a petty argument over thinking jon's trying to hide something he was doing on his phone, then drops it until they get to the restaurant, where he starts a public argument trying to get jon to hand over his phone and password, controls what jon eats, encourages jon to drink and then later shames him for being drunk, invalidates jon's emotions, and accuses jon of either having an affair or talking about him behind his back all in an effort to make jon uncomfortable and give up his privacy  
> \- jon gets annoyed enough with this to raise his voice at elias, realizes people are staring at them, and gets embarrassed over having caused a scene. he starts feeling guilty for getting so worked up and not just caving to elias's demands, and in response gets very drunk off wine from the restaurant and vodka he brought with him.  
> \- elias continues to be horrible, and as they get ready to leave, a waitress tries to ask jon if he feels like he's safe with elias and if he wants her to help him, which he declines.  
> \- in the cab to elias's house, the pov switches from jon to elias. jon tries to seek comfort from elias, elias deliberately pushes him into a sobbing breakdown, and withholds affection until jon apologizes and shows he's "willing" to perform sexual favors. he then sexually assaults jon in the back of the cab, fantasizes about raping him there, and it ends with the implication that he does rape him when they get back to elias's house.


End file.
